


cherry

by naeildo



Series: 300 word balloons [1]
Category: TWICE (Band)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2020-01-12 15:23:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18449318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naeildo/pseuds/naeildo
Summary: they could still be friends, right? that's what they agreed on, even if their last correspondence was three months ago, a series of polite messages about the flats she'd forgotten to clear out from momo's apartment.





	cherry

_down the subway, you looked my way_  
_with your girl gaze_

 

 

sana sees her first. it's something like a miracle they hadn't bumped into each other earlier, really. momo is pressed against the plastic panel and has her hand curled around a pole, the other hand leveraging her phone as her thumb taps in earnest at her screen. her mouth is screwed up in familiar concentration, the kind that sana's seen a thousand times before. even if not recently.

she looks - about the same, sana thinks. the same shade of lipstick, the same full cheeks. time hasn't done much to erase the mental catalog sana's made of momo's quirks: the way momo tilts her head along with the graphics on screen, the way her hair curled at her shoulders back when it was shorter. it's settled at her waist now. she wonders briefly if she should go over to say hi - her stop's still three stops away, and if momo hasn't moved houses, hers should be too.

they could still be friends, right? that's what they agreed on, even if their last correspondence was three months ago, a series of polite messages about the flats she'd forgotten to clear out from momo's apartment. sana takes a step forward, then back, and it's at this moment that momo lets out a noise of frustration, scuffing at the ground with her shoe, and looks up.

momo sees her second. sana watches as a collection of expressions flit across momo's face - mostly surprise, but something else too, a kind of bittersweet tenderness that sana doesn't see as much as feel. then momo moves forward, because sana may be braver in every way, but she's always been teetering on the edge with momo, afraid to take the first steps. the important ones. momo was the first to tell her she loved her, their bicycles parked away on the side of the hangang, momo's knees scraped up from falling over and over again. momo was the one to tell her they should stop seeing each other too, at a thai cafe in cheongdam-dong. momo is the one walking towards her now, stowing her phone away in her pocket. sana can see the graphics of a rhythm game, neon pink and green, before the screen fades to black.

"hi," momo says, taking her place next to sana. sana feels like her legs are turning to jelly.

"you've lost weight," sana says, and momo laughs, palming at the loose jeans hanging off her hips. "have you been eating well?"

at this, momo lets out an even louder laugh that startles the people around them. sana can feel her cheeks heating up.

"i've been dancing. definitely also eating." momo says. she pauses. "you know this." sana does know it, has seen momo eat her way through their pantry on rainy days with nothing to do. not  _theirs_ -  _momo's -_

sana feels her heart stutter and stutter on repeat, like an endless tape recorder, when momo's hand brushes against hers. sana's still staring down at her shoes, suddenly finding the stray stain on the floor the most exciting thing.

"oh," sana manages, eventually. "with jeong?" jeongyeon hadn't really chosen sides after it -- it was as amicable as it could have been, forced by circumstance more than anything, but sana hadn't the heart to make jeongyeon run between two hurting people, so sana drew away for a while. it's taken a while to get back to business with jeongyeon, but they still don't talk about momo.

"the eating yes," momo smiles again, and it's open and inviting, and somehow tears opens the wound in sana's heart just a little more. "dancing not so much."

momo looks up at sana. her eyes are still soft. sana's has to fight the urge to lean forward with her whole body, press her shoulder against momo's, twine their fingers together. eliminate the space between them. the muscle memory is traitorous. they were friends first, after all. best friends. sana bites her lip. her whole body is stiff, and momo notices.

"that's - that's good," sana says. places her hands back in front of her, one folded neatly over the other. lets the noise of the train drown out the silence. momo shuffles closer, out of necessity, maybe.

"sa-tang?" momo says, after a while. her hand has found its way to sana's elbow.

"mm?" sana tries not to tremble.

"it's our stop."

 

  
when they get out of the station, the sky opens and sends down a flood. sana thinks about the umbrella she left at home, about momo's gaze from beside her, and her students' papers she hasn't even started marking yet, all stuffed haphazardly into her bag.

"spring here is still so much rainier, huh," momo says. her voice is light. sana really wants to hold her hand.

instead, sana says: "i'll call a cab for you," and then momo is covering sana's hand with her own. she's fished out an umbrella from her bag - it's a little small, but big enough for the two of them. sana doesn't remember seeing it before.

"we can share," momo offers. a thunder clap. the street is starting to fill with water. momo is wearing her best shoes. a cab is clearly the wiser option.

sana wishes they had more time, and that momo didn't love her enough to let her leave. to ruin her three-hundred-dollar shoes for more time with her. sana wishes she could see momo and not feel her heart falling through her chest, wishes they could be friends. wishes she could stop running away.

momo pulls the umbrella over their heads, and sana follows, their feet making patterns in the puddles.

momo asks about sana's students - the older ones, the newer ones. the one girl who could never remember how to say "later" in japanese. sana answers, and laughs, and counts the number of turns they have to make before they reach her apartment.

they cross the road, pass the angel-in-us coffeehouse on the street corner, and arrive at sana's block.

for a moment, sana thinks she'll be brave enough to invite momo in. they're just friends. best friends, once upon a time.

sana presses her keycard to the reader. something about this still feels too painful to bear.

"thank you," sana tells her. momo's still holding the umbrella over her head. sana places her hand on momo's wrist. "it was nice seeing you."

"you too," momo says. she hovers, and sana feels like she should do it - disregard her parent's expectations, be careless about what the people she loves want from her. after all, momo is someone she loves, too. then something in momo's eyes changes, and she pulls back, away from sana.

"i hope your family's well," momo says, and sana feels something shoot across her chest and settle there like a deadweight, pulling the air from her lungs.

"and yours," sana finds the words, finally. momo's smile is soft, like the last wisps of a sunset. momo is so beautiful, sana thinks, watching the flutter of her lashes. the way her fists unfurl. the way she can't look at sana anymore.

momo's shoulder is drenched as she disappears around the bend, and sana loves her, and loves her, and loves her.

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me at @rainagaintmrw


End file.
